Roads
by TimmyTAR
Summary: Crossover between House and The Office. Jim becomes sick and is admitted to PPTH. Warning: Contains medical jargon. Takes place after Season 4 finales and is spoiler-ish.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** The story is a crossover, something I always enjoy on this website, because I think that they are much more difficult to write. I did some research and really wanted this to seem like an actual "House" show, so pardon me if it's not that humorous even if I do have the "Humor" category.

The story is set after the events of both Season 4 finales, "Goodbye, Toby," and "Wilson's Head." It's primarily set in New Jersey, a state I am unclear with. I visited Newark once, but that's if you count "driving through it so your family can go to Long Island." Long story.

Please read, review, and enjoy the show.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own "The Office" or "House," nor will I ever.

**Part One**

The silver Saab 9-2X drove smoothly down U.S. 12, trying to head its towards home to Pennsylvania. But the car needed to be on I-80, not heading towards Trenton, New Jersey.

"I must have spaced out, or something," the driver, a tall man with shaggy brown hair and light brown eyes thought, yawning. He made an exit off the highway and parked the car in a gas station. As he got up, he felt pain in his lower back, but ignored it as just having to sit for a very long time.

Once the driver entered the gas station, the very enthusiastic attendant smiled and greeted him. "Welcome to my store! How can I help you this fine afternoon?" It was overcast by the way outside. Definitely not bright and sunshine-y.

"I think I'm lost," the driver explained. "I must have missed a turn or something."

"Where are you heading?"

"Scranton."

The attendant stared blankly at the driver's face, not knowing what a "Scranton" was.

"Scranton, Pennsylvania?" the driver elaborated, trying to help the attendant out so he could help his plight.

"Never heard of it!" the attendant said, almost a bit too happy. "But, I'm sure Mr. Rand McNally has," he pointed out the nearby stand with road maps.

"Hopefully," the driver chuckled, going over to the maps to find the best one. He found a map of New Jersey, New York, and Pennsylvania and handed it to the attendant.

"This should work very nicely," the attendant rang up the map. "I hope you find your way back home."

"Thanks, me too," the driver paid the attendant, took the map, and exited the gas station.

The driver unfolded the entire map onto the hood of his car and tried to find the easiest path back home. He traced several different routes with his finger while estimating the amount of time it would take to be in Scranton. He chose the best one; going back the way he came, hit the I-80, then keep going until he reached the exit to Scranton. It wasn't the shortest or most original plan in the world, but he wasn't comfortable driving through unknown roads in New Jersey.

Not like there was anything to feel uncomfortable about in New Jersey.

He got back in the driver's seat, turned on the ignition and began his drive back home, going on the route he planned out. Fifteen minutes later, his cell phone rang.

"Hello?" he greeted.

"Hey, Jim," a female voice on the other line said back.

"Hey, Pam," the driver recognized the voice. Pam was his girlfriend of a little over six months and was the reason he went out to New York to see her.

"Where are you right now?" Pam asked Jim.

"Jersey. I must have made a wrong turn because I'm in the heart of the state," Jim answered, passing a billboard advertising a fast food restaurant.

"The heart of Jersey, huh? To me that seems like you took more than just one wrong turn," Pam kidded around with him.

"You're probably right," Jim smiled.

"Well, I think I should let you navigate back to Scranton. I wouldn't want you to make it any further to Atlantic City."

"You wouldn't have any problem with that if I took you with me," Jim pointed out.

"True. I love you."

Jim smiled and opened the glove box to see the box with the diamond ring still sitting in there. It was supposed to be on Pam's finger, but the moment he was about to ask, it was interrupted. He wanted the moment to be perfect, with no distractions, no interruptions, no Andy, no anything that would get in the way.

"I love you too," Jim replied, kissing the receiver.

Pam giggled at Jim's affection and kissed back before hanging up. Jim put the phone away and concentrated on the road.

A few minutes after the phone call, which was around 3:00, Jim's eyelids began to feel heavy. He could feel the tiredness take over, and he would suddenly drift off.

Once Jim soon realized what was happening, he shook himself awake and thought, "I must be getting old if I need a nap. I didn't think your late 20's was the time for naptime."

Jim's back began to hurt him once more, and he had the thought of stopping at a motel and resting. He ignored the thought. "I can make it," he tried to rally himself up. "It's just a drive. People get tired all the time, and it's no big deal."

As much as he tried, Jim couldn't quite keep his eyes open. With one more pinch of sand from the Sandman, Jim fell asleep, and swerved right off into a ditch. The airbag deployed, and Jim began to dream about Pam. Cars zoomed past him, and didn't notice the car in the ditch.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Now that we've established the scene, make your predictions for what poor Jim Halpert has. The winner gets a free packet of Taco Bell mild sauce. Mmm, yummy.

Reading and reviewing are highly encouraged.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own "House" or "The Office," even though I tell people I do all the time.

**Part Two**

"All right, open your mouth," Cameron, a pretty female doctor with blonde hair and blue eyes ordered Jim.

Jim did so. While she was shining a light to examine his throat, he asked with difficulty, "What are you looking for?"

"Anything," Cameron answered. "You never know the full extent of a car crash."

"I only fell in a ditch," Jim said. "It shouldn't be that big of a deal."

"You're right, but you know us doctors; we have to know every single little thing and not miss a spot."

Cameron stopped looking in his throat and turned away to his chart. "You're all fine."

"Really?"

"Yep. You have a few scraps, so you can get some Neosporin on it so it won't get infected. Other than that, you're good to go."

"Great," Jim smiled, relieved to be able to leave. Hospitals weren't the place he wanted to be in.

"You should probably get some more sleep," Cameron turned back to shake Jim's hand. "Not having any sleep can cause car accidents."

"Thanks for the enlightenment," Jim joked, shaking her hand back.

Cameron looked up in Jim's face and looked into his eyes. They looked red, which weren't like that when she checked them out earlier. "Hold on a sec."

Jim raised his eyebrows, and Cameron shined a light into his face. "Let me see your eyes."

"Why?" Jim asked, bending over anyway so Cameron would have a better look into them.

Cameron examined them to find his eyes all puffy and red. "Do your eyes feel scratchy at all?"

"No. Why you ask?"

Cameron looked closer to see if a bit of glass or any foreign object were in his eyes, but didn't see anything. "I think you'll have to stick around for a bit."

* * *

"Nope, absolutely not," House said, walking over to his chair and taking a seat.

"Why not?" Cameron asked, walking over to his desk and throwing the file onto it. "You don't have another case going on right now."

"That's because nothing coming in interests me," House took out a Nintendo DS and turned it on. "But a game of Mario Kart does."

Cameron rolled her eyes and opened the file. "The patient drove his car into a ditch because he was too tired to focus on the road."

"So?"

"It was in the afternoon, and he said he had ten hours of sleep."

House titled the DS as he was turning the vehicle in his video game and said, "Oh, come on! Where'd that shell come from?"

"House," Cameron grew annoyed. "He also said he had lower back pain and hasn't eaten anything in a day, but isn't hungry."

"Still not interested," House refused, hitting buttons furiously. "Son of a--"

"He also has uveitis. Inflammtion of the uvea."

"I know what that means. He probably got glass in them."

"There wasn't any glass when I checked. Something's wrong with this patient."

House finished his race in the game and said, "Then cure him."

"I don't know what it is," Cameron admitted. "And I'm starting to think the only reason you don't want to take the case is because you're worried that you'll get the patient killed."

House lost the next race and shut the DS off, and looked at Cameron. "Would you really take another case so soon after that?"

"Yes, because we're doctors. We move on and don't dwell on the past. I learned that from you," Cameron left the file on his desk before leaving his office.

House watched her leave and once she was out of sight, he opened the case file and read it over.

* * *

"28-year-old male," House began to tell Foreman, Taub, Thirteen, and Kutner once he entered the room. "Fell asleep behind the wheel, has lower back pain, loss of appetite, and uveitis. Go."

"He probably didn't get enough sleep," Foreman said, rolling his eyes.

"And he probably got glass in his eye from the crash," Kutner jumped in. "Why are we taking this case?"

"Because he's been having lots of sleep and he only developed uveitis hours after the crash," House replied.

That was going to be a challenge for the team by not taking those ideas and running with them.

"Could be autoimmune," Taub suggested. "It attacks the brain and spinal cord, causing pain in the back, loss of appetite."

"Or it could be leptospirosis," Thirteen countered. "He was in New York, wasn't he?"

"Oh, New York isn't infested with infected animal urine; it's the cleanest city in the world," House said sarcastically. He thought about it for a minute and said to Thirteen, "Get some urine and test it. Also, Taub, give the patient corticosteroids. That'll stop an acute attack of M.S. and help relieve the swelling the eyes."

Taub and Thirteen rose from their seats and went out to perform the tasks that House gave them. House turned to face the remaining Foreman and Kutner and said, "You two, go out to his house and find some dirt."

"Why would we go all the way out to New York if we think he has leptospirosis?" Foreman crossed his arms.

"I didn't say you were going to New York, did I?" House made his way across the room to his office. "You're going to his house in Scranton."

"Gesundheit," Kutner excused House, thinking he sneezed.

Foreman rolled his eyes at Kutner and said to House, "Scranton what?"

"Scranton, Pennsylvania. That's where the patient lives. Honestly, I have no idea why this is such a difficult concept for you morons to grasp," House insulted them.

"Pennsylvania? What was he doing in New York if he lives in a totally different state?" Foreman asked aloud.

"That's for you guys to find out," House answered. "Now get moving. Patient could be dying, you know."

Kutner and Foreman got up from their seats, with Foreman rolling his eyes at the task they were to perform. "What's the address?"

House told them that, and then some. "You might also want to check his workplace. If it's enviornmental, then his coworkers will show signs of sickness too."

"Where does he work?" Kutner asked while writing down the address House had told them earlier.

"Dunder Mifflin at 1725 Slough Avenue," House looked at the file. "Whatever the hell that means."

Kutner's eyes lit up at the very mention of the name, "Dunder Mifflin," as he wrote it down. "Can we know the name of our patient?"

"Jim Halpert."

Kutner looked down at his pad of paper in astonishment and wrote in big block letters, "Jim Halpert is in our hospital!" House gave a strange look at Kutner, but decided to ignore him. He'd gotten used to Kutner's strangeness. Then Kutner and Foreman left to go to Scranton, leaving House behind with no one around him.

* * *

Taub and Thirteen entered the patient's room and found the patient, Jim Halpert, lying there. Jim looked up at the doctors and greeted, "Hello."

"Hello," Thirteen and Taub said at the same time. Taub took the lead in informing the patient. "I'm Dr. Taub and this is...Thirteen."

"Thirteen?" Jim asked, confused.

"Long story," Thirteen jumped in. "We're working for Dr. House, and we're going to find out what's wrong with you."

"There's nothing really wrong with me though. Just puffy eyes and my back," Jim pointed out.

"Dr. House is a very curious individual," Thirteen answered. "I'm going to have to need a urine sample for a diagnostic test, and Dr. Taub here is going to give you some corticosteroids to help relieve the inflammtion in your eyes."

"And you'll know what's wrong with me and I can go home?"

"That's what we're hoping for, yes," Taub said and he and Thirteen made their way over to Jim's side to help him up to the bathroom.

"I think I got it," Jim tried to get up. Once he stepped onto the cold linoleum surface, he felt pain in his lower back. He let out a little whimper of pain and tried to walk. That wasn't going too well.

"My knees feel funny," Jim said aloud, touching them.

Thirteen bent down to inspect Jim's knees. They were inflammed and puffy, almost like his eyes. This wasn't good. It also meant a couple things.

"This doesn't happen with leptospirosis," Taub said aloud, noticing Jim's inflammed knees as well. "Or multiple sclerosis."

"It's something else," Thirteen elaborated.

* * *

**Addendum:** To those of you that said multiple sclerosis or leptospirosis, sorry, thank you for playing. Your parting gifts will be waiting for you out in the lobby. Please review them! I can't make this story better without your critiques.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** What a great amount of reviews! Thank you for your critiques and your words. And the alerts and favorites are just fabulous. Free Hostess cupcakes for everyone!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own House or The Office. I do own my mind though, which is worth approximately two cents.

**Part Three**

"Why didn't you do the tests?" House asked Thirteen and Taub, annoyed at their news. "I thought I told you guys to do that."

"Because leptospirosis and multiple sclerosis were automatically ruled out by this new symptom," Thirteen explained, crossing her arms. "And where's Foreman and Kutner?"

"On a little road trip," House sank into his swivel chair. "What's the symptom?"

"His knees are inflammed," Taub told him.

House took a quick second to process this new information. "Well, I guess you guys are right. It's not leptospirosis or multiple sclerosis. What other -osis did you rule out?"

"None yet," Thirteen mumbled.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. It could be Kawasaki's," Taub brought up. "He's got red eyes, the joints in his knees have pain, and the inflammation could be because of the lymph nodes."

"Unless the patient became an Asian toddler overnight, then he probably doesn't have Kawasaki's," House shot the idea down, walking over to the board to write down the new symptom. "But just to be sure, check his erythrocyte sedimentation rate and his C-reactive proteins."

"Why should we test for Kawasaki's when you just said that it wasn't it?" Taub asked. "And where are Foreman and Kutner? They should really be here for this."

"I thought I said they were on a road trip," House played with the marker in his hand. "Did you forget about that part?"

"It's just that you wouldn't make us do a test on something you know very well isn't the case," Thirteen defended Taub. "Why waste our time?"

"Because it's your job. We want to be 100 percent sure it's not Kawasaki's. If we're wrong, he could blow up from a coronary artery aneurysm," House explained, fitting the cap back on the marker and putting it back down.

Taub and Thirteen looked at each other, confused at House's actions and left to perform the tests.

* * *

Dr. Lisa Cuddy made--what seemed like the umpteenth time in her career--her way to the entrance of House's office and entered it without knocking. Typical House, playing on his electronic gaming system.

"House," Cuddy called on him, approaching him.

"Ugh, not you again," House continued his video game, trying his best to ignore her.

"Where's the other half of your team? Don't you think it's a bit excessive to make them drive all the way to Pennsylvania?" Cuddy asked him, crossing her arms.

"Oh, Pennsylvania isn't that far away. You make it seems like it's a whole other country," House quipped. "You got something against Quakers?"

"And you're testing your patient right now for Kawasaki's, correct?"

"Yep."

"And you distinctively ruled it out in front of your tea--well, half of a team," Cuddy added.

"You can never be too sure," House shut his game off. "We could miss something."

"You never miss anything, and you never perform tests on a patient if you know that's not what they have," Cuddy pointed out. "Get Foreman and Kutner back here."

House performed Foreman's eyeroll and dialed into the telephone Kutner's number. He set up the phone onto speaker and the phone began to ring.

"Hello?" Kutner answered, a bit excited.

"Where are you at?" House asked as if Cuddy was twisting his arm out of his socket.

"Dunder Mifflin. It's so awesome here! Creed's here, Meredith's here--"

"I'm sorry. Who the hell are Creed and Meredith?"

"Is that your boss on the line?" a muffled voice asked Kutner from the other line.

"Yeah--Hey!" Kutner exclaimed as the worker took his phone.

"Good morning, this is Dwight Schrute, and I have a few questions for you," the voice on the line introduced himself.

Cuddy leaned closer to the phone, at which House took this as a great time to check out her breasts. "Are you a friend of the patient?"

Dwight laughed uproariously from the other line then abruptly ended it. "No, he is my mortal enemy. Question, are you sure that Jim Halpert is at your hospital?"

Cuddy snapped her fingers in House's face, at which he realized what was going on. "Yes," House answered.

"Question, are you absolutely certain he is sick? As Assistant Regional Manager--"

"Assistant _to the_ Regional Manager," Kutner chimed in the background. "I've always wanted to say that!"

"You're nuts," Foreman said, rolling his eyes.

"As Assistant Regional Manager, I need to know whether or not he's faking so I can decide if he could get paid," Dwight continued, annoyed at Kutner.

"Yeah," House answered, very annoyed. "Would you just get off the damn line so I can talk to my--"

"And finally, question, where is this hospital so I can inspect the patient?"

"Why don't you just follow my team back?" House said without a thought.

"I never thought about that idea. Thank you for the advice. Here is your subordinate," Dwight handed the phone back to Kutner.

"Dear God, what have I done?" House slapped his hand against his forehead.

"Like I was saying," Kutner continued to babble on. "Dunder Mifflin is the setting of this really cool documentary called, "The Office." It's really cool. You wouldn't expect this people to actually exist, but they do!"

"Kutner," Cuddy cut him off. "Just get your ass in a car back here."

"Well, all right. Hey, do any of you guys want an autograph from Michael?" Kutner asked before House hung up the phone.

"See? There was a reason I sent Foreman and Kutner out there," House beamed.

"And why's that?" Cuddy asked.

"We have a new symptom. He's got a nuerological problem. Only a crazy person would work there."

* * *

Thirteen and Taub entered House's office at the same time while he was watching one of his soap operas.

"Both his ESR and protein levels are elevated," Thirteen reported to House. "But we all know that it's not Kawasaki's."

House titled his head to the side like a bird, "Au contraire. I think that just proved he has Kawasaki's."

Taub joined in the conversation with, "The symptoms of Kawasaki's is a high fever, red mucous membranes in his mouth, a rash, and tachycardia. It's not Kawasaki's."

"Why are you guys trying to convince me that it isn't Kawasaki's? Usually at this time you are all on board and trying to figure out what this disease is," House pointed out.

"It's not Kawasaki's," Taub repeated. "There are a whole bunch of different symptoms for it, and the patient has none of them. Ergo, it's not Kawasaki's."

"Ergo, the test confirms it."

"There are other diseases that show an elevated ESR and C-protein levels," Thirteen explained. "The main issue with Kawasaki's is like Taub said, tachycardia. The whole time he's been here, and there wasn't anything wrong with his heart."

House grimaced, knowing that Thirteen was right. "Differential diagnosis."

"It could be Behçet's," Thirteen guessed. "Or cauda equina syndrome."

Taub then thought up an idea. "Or systemic lupus erythematosus."

House thought those options over and said, "Go test them."

Thirteen and Taub left to go perform the tests. Once they were outside his office, Thirteen said to Taub, "It's never lupus."

"I know."

"Then why did you bring it up?"

"To test him. House isn't acting like House anymore. After Amber died, he's been trying to take the easy way out, and he's very reluctant to change his diagnosis," Taub explained. "He's afraid that he'll kill someone."

"But he'll only kill them if he does nothing," Thirteen figured out.

"Exactly."

Thirteen tried to think of a way to get House out of his funk when he saw the office of Dr. James Wilson. "We'll need some outside help for this."

* * *

Jim was sound asleep in his bed, like he usually was in this hospital. The door quietly opened and a voice rang through the room that woke Jim right up.

"Hey, Jim," Pam greeted.

Jim opened his eyes and scratched his head. He turned over to see Pamela Beesley standing there. "Hey, Pam."

"Are you okay? What happened?"

"I got too tired or something, and I crashed into a ditch," Jim said, smiling. "They think I have something."

"That's not good," Pam said, smiling back. "Let's hope you get better, Jim."

"Hopefully. I never really liked hospitals, you know."

"Why not? It's a place where they save people."

"Well that, and it's also where people die. I don't want to die, Pam."

Pam held Jim's hand and sat by next to him. "You're not going to die. I'll make sure the doctors find out what's wrong with you, and everything's going to be okay."

They both smiled at each other, and Pam leaned forward to try to kiss Jim. As they were about to lock lips, the door to Jim's room opened up.

"No!" the man yelled. "Pam, the man's sick. You don't want what he's got."

Jim could not believe who it was. "Dwight?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** Thank you all for the support. Like a "House" episode, this must end soon. I know, I'm sad too.

**Disclaimer:** "House" and "The Office" are things I do not own, nor will I ever. :(

**Part Four**

"Dwight?" Jim said, shocked at seeing Dwight standing in the doorway. "What the--"

"I sent myself here on reconnaissance to make sure that you're not faking, Halpert," Dwight explained. "We all know you'd do anything to get out of work."

"Actually, no, Dwight," Jim rolled his eyes. "I'm in a hospital so I can get better so I can go to work."

"Dwight, I think you're going to make Jim sicker if you stay here," Pam joined in, just as annoyed as Jim.

Dwight ignored her and approached Jim's bed. He reached into a backpack he was wearing and pulled out a rather large needle.

"Wait, what are you going to do with that?" Pam asked, trying to stop Dwight.

"More importantly, how did you get that past security? It might really suck here," Jim added.

"You wouldn't mind if I did a biopsy on you, Jim? I overheard some of your doctors saying there was pain in your back, so I'm going to do a lumbar puncture," Dwight told him.

"No, you're not," Jim forbid him to. "You are not my doctor."

"So you are willing to go all the way out here to New Jersey to skip work, but you won't endure a painful diagnostic test?" Dwight tsked at him. "Your plan would have worked, Jim, if I hadn't have come along."

Jim was about to retort back at him, but couldn't get his breath out. He tried to breath, but all he could do was gasp.

"Jim?" Pam lightly slapped his cheek, as if it would help him breath better. "Dwight, go get help. Jim's having trouble breathing."

Dwight sprung into action, but not how Pam would have wanted. Dwight looked through the cupboards and drawers of the room instead of going for help. "We'll have to intubate."

"What?" Pam cried, not believing what Dwight was doing.

"We're going to have to open his airway," Dwight explained, finding a plastic tube that would definitely should not be used with intubation. "Get out of the way."

"Dwight!" Pam screamed. "You are not going to do that. Get a nurse!"

Dwight glared at Pam as he did so, calling a nurse into the room. "Nurse! We got respiratory arrest!"

"Shut up, Dwight!" Pam screamed at him.

* * *

House and the team sat or stood in their office, trying to figure out what was caused Jim having difficuly breathing, and not the respiratory arrest the man with the glasses was trying to tell them.

"Behçet's would fit," Thirteen brought up again. "Most of the symptoms fit."

"He doesn't have any ulcers in his mouth though," Foreman pointed out. "And to have Behçet's, you got to have that."

"Let's not rule that out," House wrote it down on the board. "You said earlier it might be cauda equina syndrome?"

"Could be," Thirteen answered.

"Or lupus," Taub added.

"It's never lupus," House replied, still writing it down. "Come on people, we need more here."

"Lyme disease," Kutner jumped in.

House paused for a minute before writing it down. "Why?"

"Lyme could cause him to be tired, have the pain in his joints and his back, and the uveitis."

House sighed. "All right. Kutner go see if he's got erythema migrans anywhere on his body. Taub, if you're so sure it's lupus, check it. Foreman, see if you can prove Thirteen wrong with Behçet's, and Thirteen, get an x-ray for cauda equina syndrome."

The four of them got up to leave and perform the tests necessary to confirm their diagnosis. Instead of going right to their tasks however, they met up out of earshot and where House wouldn't see them; the rook of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital.

"Something's wrong with House," Thirteen told everyone. "This isn't how House acts."

"I see what you mean," Foreman nodded his head. "He's going to kill the patient by not doing anything."

"This isn't nothing," Taub crossed his arms. "While you and Kutner were gone, we had to convince House it wasn't Kawasaki's."

"Don't worry though," Thirteen told them. "I got a plan."

"Tell us," Kutner urged her to tell them.

* * *

House laid on his couch in his office, looking up at the ceiling. He was having a tough time trying to find the diagnosis. To find the solution to the puzzle.

The door to his office opened up, and a familiar voice said, "You're an idiot."

House looked towards the doorway to see his best friend, Wilson. House looked away and continued to stare at the ceiling. "So, are we talking again now?"

"You're an idiot," Wilson repeated.

"I heard you the first time."

"What happened to you? I know that what happened with...Amber...but you don't know this patient."

"But Kutner apparently does," House told him. "If we rush into this diagnosis or do something wrong, the patient will die."

Wilson gave an amazed look at what House had said before he himself said, "But you don't think like that! You don't give a damn if the patient at the end of the day really dies, it's all about solving the puzz--"

"Screw the damn puzzle!" House snapped back at him. "You really think I was thinking about the puzzle when I was trying to save your girlfriend?"

Wilson shut his mouth and allowed House to continue his rant. "You're still mad at me for what happened with Amber, and I apologize for that. I really do. But you have got to forgive me."

"Oh, no," Wilson shook his head. "Don't bring this back to me. You need to get your head back in the game and help this patient instead of making your team do tests that you know damn well won't solve anything."

House looked up at Wilson with his blue eyes before Wilson said, "I forgive you."

After hearing those words, House got up onto his feet and cane, and walked out. "Where are you going?" Wilson asked him. "I said 'I forgive you.'"

"I know."

"But--"

"I'm gonna have a talk with the patient," House told him. "It's what doctors do."

* * *

With Jim intubated and not really in the mood for talking since he was sleeping, House had to get answers from two other sources, Pam and Dwight.

"Would any of you know why he was out here in Jersey?" House asked, rubbing his forehead with his hand. He was getting a headache from having to listen to these two. Well, make that the guy with the glasses and who lived on a beet farm.

"Simple; he was trying to ditch work," Dwight replied, crossing his arms.

Pam rolled her eyes before telling House, "Jim was visiting me in New York and got lost trying to get back to Scranton."

"If you two were dating each other, then why are you living in two different states?" House asked, curious.

"I'm currently enrolled in Pratt Institute, and he's visiting me on weekends," Pam explained. "I'd go out to Scranton, but I'm so busy with school."

House nodded his head, processing this information. "How long have you two been dating?"

"How is that relevant?" Pam asked.

"I can't make a proper diagnosis if I don't know how long you two have been making whoopee."

Pam gave House a grossed out look, usually the same look when Michael said similar things to her. "I've been his girlfriend since...September, but we've known each other for years."

"They were working for the same company at Dunder Mifflin," Dwight jumped in. "I say 'were,' because once I find out that Jim is in fact faking, he will be fired."

"I don't give a rat's ass," House told him, very annoyed at Dwight at his voice causing his headache to grow stronger. "Did he seem tired when he last visited you?"

"A little," Pam answered. "He also said once that his back was hurting, but it stopped as the day went on."

Dwight scoffed. "That's what an accomplice would say."

"Shut up," House turned to Dwight. "Or, I will beat you with my cane."

That shut Dwight up. Pam smiled a little at House's threat and said, "How close are you guys with diagnosing him?"

"We're trying our best," House told her.

House got up and shook Pam's head, but ignored Dwight. As soon as he walked out, he saw Cuddy with her arms crossed. "You visited a patient? Are pigs flying yet?"

"Do you have a problem with me trying to figure out what's wrong with my patient?" House asked before hobbling past her. He looked back to check out Cuddy's butt and made his way back to his office to think.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:** Thanks for the comments so far! That's really the inspiration to keep me going. I'm hoping this is a good send-off to the story, and you all like it. Enjoy. :)

A couple things. In my story, Kutner has watched up to the Season 3 finale of "The Office," so he has seen Jim break up with Karen and go on a date with Pam. And yes, I know Jim and Pam had their date in that May, but I stupidly thought that Pam didn't want to tell Dwight that they had actually started dating earlier, when in reality, their relationship was out in the open, and they didn't really care what anyone thinks. But whatever, moving on!

**Disclaimer:** If I owned "House" and "The Office," I would be very rich. Unfortunately, I'm poor as dirt, ergo, I don't own them.

**Part Five**

Pam stroked Jim's hand, comforting him as he laid in his hospital bed in pain. She wanted so much to take his pain so he wouldn't have to suffer, but that was something she couldn't do.

Dwight was in the corner of the room, snoring and asleep. Pam was amazed at Dwight annoying her even in sleep, but fought back those thoughts and tried to focus her energy on making Jim better.

If that was even possible.

Kutner knocked on the door to the room, and Pam let him in. Dwight was not awakened by Kutner's intrusion.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Lawrence Kutner, and I'm one of the doctors helping out Jim here," Kutner formally introduced himself to Jim and Pam.

"Hello, Lawrence," Pam shook his hand. "I'm Pam and this is--"

"Jim Halpert," Kutner chuckled. "I know."

"Oh, yeah. You read the patient file and stuff probably," Pam smiled.

"That, and I'm a huge fan of the show," Kutner told her.

Pam laughed at this, and said, "Thanks. I heard that you and another doctor went out to Scranton?"

"Yeah, to Dunder Mifflin. It was so cool!"

Pam gave a weird look at Kutner, at which Kutner asked, "Why are you giving me that look?"

"'Cool' isn't exactly the word most people think when they come to Dunder Mifflin," Pam explained.

"Well, I just love the show so much, and it was really cool to be at the actual building where the show is at," Kutner elaborated.

"That's understandable," Pam said, looking away for a moment to look at Jim. Even with a tube in his mouth, Jim was trying to have a smile on his face with Kutner talking about the show and Dunder Mifflin.

"I guess I should go back to the doctor role," Kutner sighed, realizing he was taking time away from curing the patient. "I'm going to check his stats, and see if there's anything else that has developed."

"Okay," Pam nodded her head, moving away so Kutner could inspect Jim.

Kutner looked into Jim's eyes to see that the uveitis had gone down; the glucocorticoid steroids were working, but the pain in his back, swelling in his knees, and breathing problems weren't going away.

Then he noticed something else was wrong.

* * *

"We have another symptom," Kutner told the team and House. "Jim's hips and heels have swollen up too. He's blowing up like a--"

"Leave the similies and metaphors to me," House stopped him. "All right, contestants, what causes pain in the lower back, fatigue, uveitis, inflammed knees, hips, heels, and respiratory problems?"

The team didn't have a clue, and were trying to come up with an answer. House imitated the sound of a buzzer before saying, "I'm sorry, you all lose. No parting gifts for any of you."

"It's not cauda equina syndrome," Foreman told them. "The x-ray shows that there weren't any lesions below the conus of the spinal cord."

"Anyone else?" House asked.

"The tests for lyme disease were negative, as well for Behçet's and lupus," Taub added.

"There's a surprise," House gripped. "Do we have his files from other hospitals?"

"Yeah," Kutner found some files from a stack of papers and gave them to House.

House began to look through them and told the team, "Brainstorm some solutions while I look these over."

* * *

Hours later, Wilson found his friend lying on his couch, snoring and fast asleep. This was the House that he remembered. He entered his office and called, "Time to wake up."

House opened his eyes and yawned. "What time is it?"

"5 o'clock. Your team's still coming up with diseases," Wilson reported.

House stretched his arms into the air, and rubbed his back. It ached a little bit, but just as soon as it appeared, it was gone.

This gave House an idea.

"They're wrong," House scrambled, trying to gather up the medical papers to find the one that he needed.

"Do you know the diagnosis?" Wilson asked.

House fished out what he was looking for, an x-ray taken six years ago, and the x-ray they had taken a few hours ago. He got up, turned on the light and held them up to it. "What do you see in the x-ray?"

Wilson neared his friend and the x-rays. One looked relatively normal with the curviture of it as it should be. That was the one taken six years ago. The recent one--

"It's coming closer together," Wilson pointed out. "The spaces inbetween the vertebrae. It's--"

"Ssh! I'm about to tell them, and you'd just spoil it," House shushed him before hobbling into the room with his team. Wilson looked on as House explained it to them and left.

His friend was back.

House opened up the door to the other room and held his hand up to stop his ducklings with their guesses at what the patient had. "What disease, causes your spine to fuse together?"

The team didn't immediately say anything, cautious at what he was saying.

"It's not a trick question," House added. "The x-ray we took compared to one from a few years ago shows his vertebrae getting all cozy together."

The team pondered this, and Taub said, "Ankylosing spondylitis."

"Finally," House let out a deep breath. "Yes."

"He's never had any of these symptoms before though," Foreman challenged him. "It's genetic, and these symptoms can't just jump out and attack his spine."

"True, but who's been spending days sitting at a desk, driving in cars to New York, and sleeping?" House asked, referring to Jim. "His lack of physical exertion in showing his affection are pretty much killing him."

"What about the lungs?" Thirteen added.

"The spine had become so rigid near the lungs that they were causing him to have difficulty breathing. It's a joint effort to take a breath. The lungs to some of the work, but the body has to have ample room to inhale. The spine was being a hog and wouldn't budge," House explained.

The team nodded their heads, taking in all this information and the diagnosis of ankylosing spondylitis.

"Take a blood test for the HLA-B27 marker. When it comes back positive, give him an NSAID for the inflammation, and tell him to take up some new age crap like yoga, or tai chi, or swimming. He's gonna be fine."

* * *

"Will he be okay?" Pam asked Dr. House.

"Oh, yeah. The treatment's pretty simple too. Take an NSAID to reduce the inflammation, and exercise will help curb it," House told her.

"But Jim's already an active guy," Pam said.

"While that's mostly true, his frequent trips to New York have been making him doughy," House explained.

Pam looked down at the ground, realizing that the weekly visits from Jim to New York were one of the reasons he had the condition.

"A.S. is genetic, so there's a small risk it can be passed to your kids. It's small enough though that you can have all the sex you want, and your kids might not have to be named Quasimodo."

Pam frowned at House getting into their lovelife, while Dwight was repulsed at the thought of his mortal enemies and their spawn.

"So...Jim was actually sick?" Dwight asked, shocked at what he had just learned.

"You're really catching on to this, aren't you?" House snapped at Dwight. "Yes, he was sick. He's going to get better, and he'll be out of here today."

Dwight scowled at Jim getting better and left angrily. House looked at Jim and Pam as they were holding hands and asked, "Is he really like that?"

"Yes," Pam answered, talking for Jim, who still had a tube in his mouth.

* * *

The end of the day drew near, and it was now time for Jim to leave the hospital. Kutner helped push Jim out of the hospital in a wheelchair, and also managed to get an autograph from Jim, Pam, and Dwight.

"Thank you guys so much," Kutner thanked the trio, looking at their signatures over and over again.

"Don't mentioned it. You saved my life, you know," Jim shrugged it off.

Pam grabbed Jim's hand, and they made their way back to Scranton. Life goes on.

House laid on his couch, bored out of his mind since his patient was all cured, and heard the door open. He knew who it was.

"Let's get drunk," House said to Wilson, trying to figure out something to do.

"Sure," Wilson agreed.

House got up on the floor and left with Wilson to the bar, friends again.

Things were normal again.


End file.
